


The Worst Yule Ball Ever

by fortythousandth



Series: HPSM AU [2]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortythousandth/pseuds/fortythousandth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michiru and Haruka both want to go to the Yule Ball with each other, but, because they're Michiru and Haruka, things don't quite go according to plan. Pre-relationship Haruka/Michiru</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Yule Ball Ever

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of this, pretend with me that the Yule Ball is a more common, yearly or bi-yearlyish occurence, and also that the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor Quidditch match takes place sometime around December.
> 
> Part of HPSM AU, a collaborative Sailor Moon/Harry Potter crossover project originating on Tumblr--if you happen to be interested in lots of ramblings, including some extra headcanons and also some more logic as to why we placed certain characters in the houses we did, the series main page includes a link to the Tumblr tag!
> 
> HOUSE KEY  
> Gryffindor: Haruka, Rei, Seiya, Mamoru  
> Slytherin: Michiru, Minako  
> Hufflepuff: Makoto, Usagi  
> Ravenclaw: Ami

Michiru, bolstered by an air of great confidence, strides into the library, utterly positive that the day has finally arrived.

Today, she’ll win the romantic attentions of Haruka Tenoh.

After literal years of flirtatious comments and subtle glances that always went unnoticed, and of late night study sessions and outings together that were always all too platonic, there remains one tactic that Michiru hasn’t tried, short of jumping Haruka: jealousy.

She finds Haruka in her favorite armchair by the window, paging through neither a textbook nor schoolwork but the most recent  _Which Broomstick_ ,with the sort of look on her face that Michiru could only dream of receiving one day from the Gryffindor chaser.

Shaking herself out of several sudden fantasies, Michiru settles herself into the chair across from Haruka’s. With an air of well-practiced nonchalance, Michiru says, “Brad asked me to be his date to the Yule Ball.”

Haruka’s head snaps up, the magazine dangling forgotten from her fingertips. “What?!”

“I told him I’d think about it.” Michiru crosses a leg over her knee and gives Haruka her best demure look from beneath her eyelashes. “Unless, of course, there’s someone else I should go with instead?”

“Someone else asked you, too?”

Michiru gives her a long look, and after a few seconds of examination, Haruka finally seems to get the point—”Well, do you like Brad?”

—or not. Michiru tries not to roll her eyes too obviously. “Brad is a Pureblood from a distinguished family, he excels academically, and my parents would wholeheartedly approve of him, so obviously he seems to be just like all the rest of my friends at this school,” Michiru replies, lacing her words with enough sarcasm that even Haruka would be able to read between the lines. She isn’t anticipating Haruka bolting to her feet, casting the magazine off to the side. “What are you—”

“I have a thing,” Haruka says abruptly, scrubbing a hand through her hair. “There’s this thing I have to do that I forgot about, but I have to go do the thing. Now. Congratulations on you and Brad.”

“Haruka—”

But Haruka has always been known for her speed, and she’s gone.

Perhaps, Michiru reflects, it might be time to just try jumping Haruka after all.

* * *

"—and with BRAD, he doesn’t even play QUIDDITCH! It’s so idiotic, Mako. This is going to be the worst Yule Ball ever."

Makoto slides another piece of homemade tart across the table and tuts sympathetically along with Haruka’s outrage, doing her best to convincingly agree with the apparent accusation that not playing Quidditch may as well be akin to casting one of the three Unforgivable Curses. If Makoto hadn’t been so fond of Haruka, she may have been hard-pressed to avoid pointing out that Brad wasn’t the only idiot around these parts. Instead, though, Makoto’s doing her best to anticipate what Haruka needs most right now, which appears to be both an ample quantity of baked goods to satisfy her sweet tooth as well as an open ear. “Did you tell her that you don’t like Brad?” she asks.

Haruka looks at Makoto like she’s just grown another head and takes a ferocious bite of tart. “Well, no, why would I do that? Michiru just wanted to let me know first so I wouldn’t hear the news from anyone else. She obviously likes him.”

“Yes, obviously,” Mako echoes doubtfully.

Haruka stares at the tart with what has to be the most downtrodden look ever given a pastry. “You’re going with someone you like,” she says. “At least one of us will get to have a good night.”

Mako blushes, still not entirely used to the idea that her affections might actually be reciprocated. “We’re not calling it a date yet,” she says, trying to force down the silly grin that always shows up whenever she thinks of a certain blue-haired Ravenclaw. “We’re just spending some time together.”  

Haruka scoffs. “Spending time together. If spending time together is a date, then Michiru and I have already been on a thousand. Who considers spending time together a date?” She slumps sadly in her seat. “Can I have the rest of that tart, Mako?”

Makoto has always believed that there’s no cure for a broken heart like good food, and if she can do nothing else for Haruka, at least she can do this. “I’ll wrap it up for you.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, Rei, I’m just getting nothing today,” Michiru says, massaging her temples.

Rei sighs and shakes her head, trying to clear it, before gazing back into the crystal ball to make another valiant attempt at completing the Divination homework. “I can sense that you’re off. Is something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Michiru says.

“Don’t lie to me,” Rei shoots right back.

Rei knows that even the ever-composed Michiru can’t hold up against her fiery stare for too long. “Nothing’s wrong,” Michiru says carefully.

“So what’s not right?” Rei asks.

Michiru pauses. Rei sits back, figuring that Michiru’s just trying to gather her words, when suddenly, she says, “I think something’s coming to me.”

“Really?” Rei sits bolt upright and grabs a quill and some parchment, eager to be done with their homework. Normally, Rei loves Divination, but the downside of the subject is that if you’re going through a dry spell, it’s nearly impossible to get anything of merit done.

“I see a lion,” Michiru begins.

“A lion.” Rei jots this down. “Strength, power, royalty. What else?”

“No, it’s not that kind of lion. Well, it is that kind of lion, but she’s not just that. Of course she’s strong and powerful, but this lion is also utterly hopeless.”

“What do you mean?” Rei asks. “Is it trapped? Hurt?”

“Neither,” Michiru shakes her head, “she’s just in the middle of a great ocean. Entirely surrounded by the sea.”

“‘Surrounded…by…sea…’” Rei writes. “Does the lion seem scared?”

“Oh no, not at all. This lion is spectacularly oblivious to her surroundings. It’s quite impressive. It’s as if the lion doesn’t even notice that she’s in the sea, which is strange, really, because the sea’s very stormy. But the sea doesn’t want to hurt the lion—it wouldn’t dream of hurting the lion. It’s just that the sea is extremely conflicted. The sea has a great amount of feelings for the lion. All that the sea wants to do is keep the lion safe and happy, but the lion never seems to see that the sea cares so much. And sometimes it’s all the sea can do to keep going, but the sea has to, because the sea always has to be there, and the sea has its tasks to do, and everyone would notice if the sea stopped one day. So the sea presses on, even though the lion may never be aware of the sea. But every day, the sea wakes and dreams that maybe this could be the day that…”

Rei has long since stopped transcribing this monologue, instead setting her quill down to stare at Michiru, mouth slightly agape.

“Or perhaps,” Michiru finishes, “I’m only seeing fog. Maybe you should write that, Rei… Just lots of mist and fog.”

* * *

"With that goal by Tenoh, her sixth of the day, Gryffindor leads Ravenclaw 90-20, and whew, the Ravenclaw fans are NOT happy with that one. Nearly took the keeper’s head off with that, so aggressive! Almost unusually frustrated, I’d say. What’s the matter, Tenoh, can’t get a date to the Yule Ball or something?"

_"Seiya."_

"Apologies, Professor! Just injecting a bit of color and fun, won’t happen again. And oi, Tenoh, don’t give me that look, it was just a joke! Although y’know, it could be that you’re trying too hard. Maybe she prefers the sensitive type, huh? Like maybe, say, a songwriter? An artist’s heart does need another artist, after all, and hey, if she’s available—"

"SEIYA—"

"WHOA, that was a close one! Geez, don’t you know that you’re supposed to hit Bludgers at the other team, not at the innocent announcer?"

* * *

Usagi begins tucking into a delicious breakfast, merrily drenching her pancakes in an amount of syrup that would render most humans incapacitated for several hours, fully prepared to enter a certain state of divine bliss derived only from mass quantities of delicious food.

She’s deeply engrossed in a particularly well-mixed bite when a warm body slides in close—really, really close—to her and breathes a husky, “Hey, Kitten.”

Usagi nearly chokes on her food and turns to face the newcomer. “Haruka!” she exclaims, feeling her face heat up.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Haruka says, casually twirling a strand of Usagi’s hair around her index finger.

Usagi’s captivated by the touch and the proximity—how does Haruka always manage to do this to her? Breakfast forgotten, Usagi stammers, “W-what’s that?”

Haruka’s deep blue eyes lock onto Usagi’s, and it’s all she can do to not get lost in the piercing gaze. Haruka inclines her head ever so slightly as a small smile plays about the corners of her mouth. “I was hoping you’d do me the honor of being my date to the Yule Ball.”

Usagi’s heart nearly skips a beat. “You want me to do WHAT?”

Haruka chuckles. “You heard me. Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“I…I…” Just as she’s about to cross the point of no return, Usagi snaps back to her senses. “Wait! I’m sorry, Haruka, but I can’t.”

Haruka’s brow furrows. “You can’t?”

“It’s just…” Usagi fiddles with her spoon as her thoughts wander. “I’m hoping someone else will ask me, that’s all.”

“Someone else? Who?”

Usagi’s gaze drifts to a table across the Great Hall, where a lone figure sits with a textbook.

“You’re kidding,” Haruka says. “You’d rather go to the Ball with Cape Boy than with me?”

“It’s not a cape,” Usagi says, “I think it’s a fancy cloak. Maybe he’s just really cold all the time!”

“And the dress robes that he wears every day?” Haruka’s tone is skeptical.

“Well…well…I like him. He just seems so mysterious…and romantic!”

Haruka sighs and scoots back to a normal proximity. “If you like Chiba, I can’t stop you; he’s smart enough, from what I can tell. He’d just better be good enough for you, or he’ll have to answer to me.”

Usagi beams, feeling her heart well up with love for her friend. “Thanks, Haruka! Will you have breakfast with me?”

“I was going to go get some extra laps around the pitch—”

“I’ll even share my pancakes with you! Please?”

Usagi turns her best puppy eyes on Haruka, and is gratified to know that even Haruka is unable to resist. “Okay, Kitten, but I’ll get my own pancakes.”

“Yay!” Usagi grabs Haruka a plate and attempts to look as innocent as possible. “So since you’re both in the same house…is there anything that you could maybe tell me about Mamoru?”

_“Usagi…”_

* * *

Hogwarts absolutely teems with both witches AND wizards who would gladly throw themselves in front of a whole host of unpleasant and embarrassing hexes to win a date with the great Haruka Tenoh, but Haruka, contrary to popular belief, isn’t particularly interested in spending the evening of the Yule Ball forced to entertain a random stranger.

Unfortunately, the shortness of her list of potential date candidates is starting to concern her, particularly considering that anyone who Haruka would take to the dance would have to a.) know Haruka, and be known by Haruka, at least fairly well, b.) have the sort of personality that wouldn’t make the evening a total wash, c.) be someone who wouldn’t mind being romantically linked to Haruka, and d.) preferably be someone who had at some point in the past shown weakness to Haruka’s charms.

All of those requirements make Haruka a rather picky suitor, and Haruka’s well aware that she has to make a move soon.

So after Quidditch practice, Haruka snags the robe of the Slytherin seeker about to take to the pitch with her team and pulls her aside. Deciding that any preamble would only clutter the message, Haruka comes right out with it: “I need you to go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Minako tosses some blonde hair over her shoulder and grins. “Sheesh, romance really IS dead, huh?”

Haruka sighs internally and sets herself to Standard Flirt Mode. “We could make it romantic if you want.”

Minako’s grin turns to more of a smirk, and she rests a hand on Haruka’s chest. “Well, if you insist, I won’t complain, but don’t worry about any expectations here. I’ve already heard the whole story from Usagi and Mako, and I’m in. Although I have to say I’m a bit offended you’d ask Usagi before you’d ask me.”

Haruka’s jaw has long since dropped. “Uh…”

Minako laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to look good enough at the Yule Ball that even the paintings will be jealous of you.”

Haruka watches Minako flit off to practice, unaware if this undertaking has just been a massive success, a dismal failure, or, quite possibly, both.

* * *

“I hear you’re going to the Yule Ball with Haruka.”

Michiru’s voice is so matter-of-fact, so utterly devoid of emotion, that there’s no way she can possibly be sincerely disinterested. It’s enough to make Minako close her book entirely and give her full attention to this conversation, because oh, she can tell already that this is going to be good. “I am,” Minako replies, unable to resist adding, “and I’m so lucky!”

“Yes, you are,” Michiru says. She perches on the arm of one of the nearby black leather sofas and gives the only other inhabitant of the Common Room, a small, sickly-looking first year, one of her patented Looks. Within seconds, she and Minako are alone. By the time Michiru turns back, she’s softened her gaze, but Minako still can’t help but feel targeted. If Michiru wanted to attain large amounts of power someday, she could probably do it just based on the intensity of her glare alone.

But Minako’s never been very good at backing down, and she continues. “It’s funny, too. I get the feeling that I’m not Haruka’s first choice. It’s almost like she’d rather go with someone else, but that didn’t wind up working out for some reason. I don’t get it—I mean, who wouldn’t want to go out with Haruka Tenoh?” Haruka is certainly cute enough, and it doesn’t take too much work for Minako to muster up a dreamy, lovesick sigh.

“Oh?” Michiru’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly on the arm of the sofa.

“But I guess you’d know all about that, since you and Haruka are best friends, right?” Minako plasters her best innocent look on her face. “And best friends tell each other everything—especially their crushes!”

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Michiru says abruptly. While her expression appears impassive, the icy undertone in her voice could freeze lava.

Minako takes this as a sign that she’s getting somewhere. “Of course, Michiru. It’s really nice to see how protective of her you are. Like, REALLY protective.”

Michiru stands stiffly in a way that clearly says the conversation is ending. “Well. I hope you have a nice evening with Haruka.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Minako says through a wide grin, “I definitely won’t do anything you wouldn’t do!”

She at least waits until Michiru’s out of the Common Room before she laughs and fist-bumps the air.

* * *

It’s not even half an hour into the Yule Ball when Michiru—known throughout the school for her ever-present elegance—manages to dump a nearly full glass of wine all over Brad. Her date doesn’t take this occurrence well, despite Michiru’s attempts to help sop the liquid up (which mysteriously, if anything, only force the stain in deeper), and he winds up blustering away, muttering something about having to change his robes.

On the other side of the ballroom, Haruka’s eyes have been locked on Michiru for the entire evening, even through several perfunctory dances with Minako. And fortunately for Haruka, Minako has been anticipating a turn of events like this all evening, Feeling benevolent, she decides to not even make Haruka work.

She elbows Haruka hard in the ribs. “Catch me.”  

"Wha—"

“OH!” Attracting the attention of half of the ballroom in the process, Minako flings herself backward into Haruka’s arms, allowing her hand to dramatically flutter across her forehead. “I SAY, Haruka, it’s EVER SO HOT in here. I think I must go get some air out on that snowy, frigid balcony over there for a GOOD LONG TIME. ALL ALONE.”

Haruka steals a glance at the boggled stares of everyone in their immediate vicinity and feels her face starting to heat up. “You’re…do you need…”

“Oh no, no, Haruka, while I do thank you for your INCREDIBLY CHARMING AND GENTLEMANLY OFFER OF ACCOMPANIMENT, I think I’ll head outside now BY MYSELF.” Tugging herself upright by the collar of Haruka’s shirt, Minako can’t resist the urge to give Haruka a quick peck on the cheek as she departs. “You owe me,” she whispers, and heads off to the balcony.

Haruka clears her throat and tugs at her collar, casting what she hopes is a disarming smile to the few students still engaged in the spectacle before bolting to the sidelines.

She meets Michiru by the punch table and quite possibly has never been more relieved—or more nervous—to see another human being in her entire life.

“Is Minako all right?” Michiru asks, gently resting her fingertips on Haruka’s wrist.

“She’ll be fine,” Haruka says, trying to ignore the tingling setting into her entire arm. “How’s Brad?”

Michiru waves a hand. “Had he been thinking clearly, there’s thousands of charms one can use to clean stains. Truthfully, I might not have been what he was expecting.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Haruka blurts. At Michiru’s questioning eyebrow, Haruka lowers her voice. “I just mean…I don’t know why anyone would give up the chance to spend time with you.”

It actually  _is_  pretty warm in the ballroom, which has to be the only explanation for the sudden flush around Michiru’s cheekbones. “Perhaps,” she ventures quietly, “I should have been spending this time with you all along.”

Haruka freezes. Her mind runs through a thousand different options, but there’s only one thing she can say. Clearing her throat, she asks, “Would you like to dance?”

Michiru smiles and slips her hand into Haruka’s. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Maybe, Haruka muses, this won’t be the worst Yule Ball ever after all.


End file.
